


Midnight

by Chamomile



Series: A Moment in Time [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamomile/pseuds/Chamomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say the line between one day and the next has the potential to bring about change...The Admiral and Elder Seedseer are no strangers to that.  (Merlwyb, Kan-E-Senna, and their three midnights. A precursor and sequel to "A Moment in Time", in three acts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

It all began when the Admiral received a letter with the Lily and Serpent seal, handed to her in the Stateroom by Commodore Reyner one day.

“From the Order of the Twin Adder, Admiral Merlwyb,” he said, “I am told it is of great urgency.”

Her thoughts wandered to Kan-E-Senna as she eyed the seal. She had just received a letter from the Elder Seedseer nary a day or two ago. Another letter arriving, claiming to be urgent…was a rather unsettling thought to Merlwyb. She nearly tore it open, fearing the worst.

The letter was as follows:

_“Admiral Merlwyb:_

_Greetings. My name is Fulke, and I am a Serpent First Lieutenant of the Order of the Twin Adder, as well as Personnel Officer. You may be surprised to be receiving a letter with our Lily and Serpent seal not from the Elder Seedseer, but I can assure you that we as a company agreed unanimously to seal it as such. This letter is being sent without the approval of the Elder Seedseer; however, my superiors insisted that it must be sent to you regardless._

_We of the Order of the Twin Adder beseech your aid, Admiral Merlwyb. The Elder Seedseer is not well. I have not seen her personally as of late, but my superiors—the High Commanders—have informed me that she has barely slept a bell this past fortnight. She has been tirelessly working, most likely without any proper meals, and she grows frailer by the day. Many of the higher-ranked soldiers in the Order have demanded for her to rest for a time, however, she refuses to do so and claims she is well. All have tried to convince her, including those of our Seedseer Council, but it has been to no avail._

_She often speaks highly of you, Admiral, and we believe you to be our last hope. We are aware of your frequent correspondence with the Elder Seedseer. You are her closest friend and confidante. For the sake of all who love her, we would have you visit the Elder Seedseer at your earliest convenience. You may be the only one who can get through to her._

_I understand we are giving you very short notice, Admiral, but Gridania has not been the same since this change. We are inspired by her tireless efforts to rebuild the city-state, yet she continues to work without rest. At the behest of the Order of the Twin Adder and the city-state of Gridania, we implore your help in this matter and appreciate any effort you are able to make._

_I apologize for the brevity of this message. Please respond as soon as you are able._

_Thank you,_

_Serpent Lieutenant Fulke”_

Merlwyb nearly crumpled the letter as she finished, her hand shaking at the content of the message. Kan-E-Senna—Elder Seedseer of Gridania, and the light of hope to all forestborn who survived the Calamity. Ever since that fateful day, the two of them had been linked. Kan-E constantly wept for the fallen at first when her nigh-unbreakable spirit shattered to pieces. But Merlwyb returned to the forest one day to gaze upon the ruins.

_“We will rebuild this realm together,”_ Merlwyb had said to a distraught Kan-E, _“And you will write me at every opportunity. I will teach you what it truly means to lead this vessel you call Gridania…Until your heart is once again unwavering, I will be watching over you.”_

…And so it began. Kan-E reluctantly took up the Admiral’s offer, writing constantly to inform her of the city-state’s progress during its rebuilding. Merlwyb always wrote back immediately, giving careful advice when asked for it; occasionally it took her bells upon bells to think of the right thing to say. Over time, the letters became more personal—they began to ask about each other rather than just the city-states they governed. There were times, too, when her feelings could not be expressed in words, and so she visited Gridania instead, eager to see how her ally was faring. Kan-E enjoyed this immensely, and Merlwyb continued to visit weekly, to speak with her and laugh with her. To comfort her as she mourned the blurred faces of Warriors of Light long gone and to share the burdens of leading and rebuilding a broken city-state.

The Admiral had learned more from the Elder Seedseer than she could ever have taught. In time, her pure, gentle heart had built itself back up with the Admiral’s aid. Yet…Merlwyb continued to visit and write, longing for those familiar, comforting smiles and kind words. She began to find even the littlest things about the Elder Seedseer…somewhat beautiful. Perhaps, Merlwyb thought not so long ago, the real reason she took the Elder Seedseer under her wing was to forget the same pain she had tried to erase in her ally. When she was with the Padjal, that pain seemed to disappear. She felt like herself again, just hearing Kan-E’s voice or seeing her smile…and, recently, she felt something…different. Something new that she couldn’t very well describe—a strange, exhilarating unease that made her heart jump whenever she landed in Gridania.

…Of course she knew what it was. But she would admit those feelings to no one. Not even to Kan-E herself… _especially_ not to Kan-E. It was selfish, it was heart-wrenching, it was impossible…and, somehow…it was wonderful.

That was why she had no choice but to go.

“Commodore,” she urged, “Ready an airship to Gridania. Immediately.”

The Commodore turned his gaze back to the Admiral, eyes wide with surprise.

“Now?” Reyner questioned, “We may not have it ready until tonight, Admiral…our airship is currently under maintenance.”

“Do you not know the meaning of ‘immediately’, Commodore?” she asked. Her sharp silver eyes pierced into the Commodore’s, making him go completely pale.

“Y-yes, Admiral!” he gave a Storm salute, “We will have it prepared as soon as possible!”

“Good,” Merlwyb nodded, “And send word to the Adders, as well. The Elder Seedseer should be expecting company.”

Reyner saluted again, running out of the Stateroom and to…gods knew where. Hopefully to follow orders…though he was reliable enough to trust, unlike a certain Lieutenant she knew. And as he left with Marshal Slafyrsyn to make preparations, she was once again alone in the Stateroom.

“…Gods damn it, Kan-E,” she whispered into the empty room with trembling hands, “You mustn’t do this to me…”

The words, heard only by the one who spoke them, faded into the bright white room.

There was no time to lose.

—————————————————-

Reyner returned not long after with a distressed, somewhat fear-stricken expression—this usually meant the worst had come to pass. Contacting the Adders had gone surprisingly smoothly, and the Commodore was happy to report that; he always did report the good news first. However, the Admiral was none too pleased upon hearing the news that her airship was still undergoing vital maintenance and would be delayed for “a few bells”. She was exceedingly frustrated when she couldn’t board until a bell before midnight.

“Set course for Gridania!” she ordered, pointing towards the dark eastern horizon. The airship crew followed her order as fast as they possibly could, readying the newly-fixed vessel and sending it into the eastern skies towards the mainland, and towards the Black Shroud.

The ride was generally quiet—the crew worked tirelessly to keep the airship at full speed as Merlwyb eyed them all from time to time, running about the deck and checking on how the new engine was faring. As they neared the Shroud and the towering foliage of the surviving trees could be seen from the air, her thoughts grew erratic, and her chest became tight at the mere thought of seeing Kan-E again. She would do everything in her power to bring that woman back to her senses…she _would_ keep that vow from nearly three years ago.

At midnight exactly, the ship less-than-gracefully made its way into the Gridanian airship landing; Merlwyb noticed a number of bright yellow coats in the distance, past the gates…she wasn’t quite sure who had chosen the colors for the Twin Adder uniforms (…Could it have been Kan-E?), but…at least they were easily noticeable.

In front of them all…a tiny, pale body stood, leading the others. As soon as the airship gate had opened, Merlwyb quickly gave a nod to the airship captain as if to thank him and slowly passed through the landing, towards the tiny Padjal in white. And, perhaps, for not even a second…the Admiral thought she felt a pang of fear well up inside her.

Merlwyb closed the distance between them slowly, almost awkwardly. She found herself speaking first.

“Elder Seedseer,” she bowed her head slightly, trying to smile, “I apologize for arriving so late. I hope you were not waiting long.”

It took Kan-E a moment to process those words, looking up sleepily into the Admiral’s eyes—it was far worse than Merlwyb could have imagined. Her bright green eyes seemed to have dulled with the heavy dark circles under them. Her tiny cheeks had sunken in a bit, and she even thought she saw her hands shaking. But, somehow…in this fatigued, trembling body, a small bit of Kan-E was still there.

“Not at all,” she wearily smiled—her voice was somewhat weak, “I was pleased to hear of your visit from the High Commanders. You are welcome here at any time, Admiral. Even at this hour of the night, I would be glad to greet you.”

“It is reassuring to hear you say that,” replied the Admiral, “But what of you?”

“What of me?” she repeated, pausing for a moment and slowly taking the question in, “If Gridania is well, then so, too, am I. It further puts me at ease to know you are here.”

“…Is that so?” Merlwyb murmured to herself, inaudible to the fatigued little Padjal. She could barely believe it as she looked to the other Twin Adder soldiers behind her ally, all with faces of concern and sadness. Perhaps Kan-E realized it—not long after, she dismissed her soldiers.

“Thank you all for escorting me here,” she told them, turning quickly around, “You need not worry. I am in the Admiral’s capable hands.”

…And so they reluctantly left, almost all of them turning their gaze back to the Elder Seedseer once before going back up the stairs to the Carline Canopy. The Admiral, still a bit shocked from seeing the Padjal’s emaciated form, was silent, trying to find the right thing to say. The only action she could take was a step or two closer to her—perhaps, she thought, she could find the rest of Kan-E hiding inside that body…if she looked closely enough.

“Is there somewhere else you might wish to speak?” Kan-E tilted her head, “The Lotus Stand, perhaps?”

“…Where might one find a place to sup?” Merlwyb asked without thinking, her gaze wandering back and forth from Kan-E’s tired eyes to her shaking hands…the Elder Seedseer was almost taken aback by the question, but answered it nevertheless.

“Not far from here at all,” she slowly answered, “Just upstairs, at the Carline Canopy…Have you not yet—ah!”

Before Kan-E could finish, Merlwyb grabbed one of her hands, tightly holding on and almost dragging her to the stairs—once Kan-E had finally realized what was going on, she walked with the pull of her arm and followed, albeit somewhat confused.

“…Admiral?” she was nearly gaping at the Admiral’s forward attitude, “Where are we—”

“We will have a meal there,” Merlwyb interrupted her again, frustrated by the Elder Seedseer’s lack of awareness of her own condition. She looked back at the smaller woman, who seemed almost…frightened, for a moment. But she refused to let go of that hand, even more so when she could feel it slightly trembling under her grip.

As they neared the top of the stairs, the bright lights of the Carline Canopy in the darkness of midnight nearly burned at Merlwyb’s eyes, but she continued on, looking for someone to speak with to get her ally—no, her closest friend—some kind of meal before she collapsed in the Admiral’s arms.

It was rather quiet as they entered, as most Gridanians had already gone to sleep, and the few who remained were adventurers. Young and old adventurers alike, of all races and clans, perhaps starting their very own journeys or simply resting from their arduous travels with a warm meal. They both stood aimlessly for a moment, until Merlwyb could find a place for them to sit—a small table at the corner of the Canopy. She pulled at Kan-E to follow her there, urging for her to sit first; Merlwyb sat across from her.

There was a strange, blank look on the Elder Seedseer’s face. Through all of the time she had known the Padjal, Merlwyb had never seen this emotion from her…or rather, this lack of emotion. In a way, it was tearing at her emotions, making her unsure of what to do, but she cared not. She would do whatever it took, no matter how much it tore up at her inside.

“You…would like to speak with me here?” Kan-E absently questioned.

“For now…yes,” Merlwyb nodded sternly, “I would like for you to have something to eat.”

A silent, exhausted fear spread across the Elder Seedseer’s face in that moment.

“…Is that why you’ve come?” she murmured, her voice somewhat shaken.

Merlwyb hadn’t the time to reply. A tall Elezen woman—perhaps the owner—came up to them, in rather high spirits for this time of night…

“Elder Seedseer…It’s an honor to have you here,” she beamed and turned to Merlwyb, “And you must be the Admiral of Limsa Lominsa.”

“That is correct,” Merlwyb said simply.

“Admiral,” Kan-E began, putting on a weak smile, “This is Mother Miounne. She is the proprietress of the Carline Canopy, as well as a friend to all Gridanians and adventurers.”

“No need to flatter me, Elder Seedseer,” Miounne shook her head, “This mother’s just glad to be helping those in need…Just about three years have gone by, and there are still refugees and stray adventurers all over the place, looking for help…though I’m sure you two know that more than anyone.”

“…Yes,” Kan-E solemnly agreed, “There is still much to do to rebuild.”

“In any case,” Miounne shook her head, bringing out a pad of parchment and a quill, “is there anything I can get for you?”

The Padjal hesitated to speak, her gaze down at the table. Merlwyb spoke for her.

“The Elder Seedseer will have some stone soup,” she said, “And I will have a cup of coffee…flavored with vanilla, if you happen to have it.”

“Right away,” Miounne smiled, “On the house, of course—a thousand meals couldn’t repay you two for what you’ve done for us; the same goes for that Flame General, should he ever show his face around here come next Alliance meeting.”

And so she left without saying another word, putting her quill and parchment back into a pocket. There was a strained, awkward silence between the Roegadyn and the Padjal…Kan-E continued to avert her gaze from Merlwyb’s. The Admiral, on the other hand, was at a loss for words.

“Why have you come here tonight…?” Kan-E finally spoke up, albeit quietly, refusing to let her eyes meet Merlwyb’s, “…What have they told you?”

She didn’t know how to answer…or, rather, she did, but she couldn’t quite explain the answer without her selfish feelings getting in the way.

“They told me you were not well,” Merlwyb simply replied, ignoring the first question entirely, “…And I am inclined to agree with them.”

“I see…” she nodded slightly, crestfallen.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“No, it is not,” Kan-E finally looked back up, into the Admiral’s eyes, forcing some kind of smile—nothing at all like the ones Merlwyb so loved, “…I am well, Admiral. Truly, I am. Pray disregard my soldiers’ concern…it is very much misplaced.”

The Admiral clenched her fists together…how could she even _try_ to convince herself she was well? Had she not seen her own reflection? Had she not realized her entire body was shaking from malnourishment? The thought baffled her, angered her. Kan-E was not the type to deny that something was amiss…after all this time, she knew that for sure.

That was why this entire situation bothered Merlwyb even more.

…But there was no point in pressing it further. Miounne had arrived with a piping hot bowl of stone soup in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. Carefully, she placed both on the table and bowed deeply, reminding both of them that the meal was on the house and how she hoped they would enjoy it.

Kan-E stared reluctantly at the bowl of soup, the fake smile of hers fading away into a wide-eyed anxiety. She seemed to be growing paler by just looking at it…

“You _will_ finish that,” Merlwyb instructed her.

“…Have you become my mother, Admiral?” the Padjal replied sharply…Merlwyb hadn’t expected that.

“No,” she nonchalantly took a sip of her coffee—a little more vanilla than she’d have liked, but it would suffice, “But you are my friend. I swore all that time ago that I would be watching over you, did I not?”

There was no answer at first…just a rather dumbfounded look on Kan-E’s face. But, slowly, she picked up the spoon next to her bowl and warily took a vegetable-filled spoonful of soup into her mouth. She must have enjoyed it, because she happened to take another spoonful…and yet another, with a look of childish enjoyment, as if she’d never eaten before in her life…it was the first genuine emotion Merlwyb had seen out of the Padjal this entire night. Even if it was only for a short time, it put the Roegadyn somewhat at ease. She hadn’t realized she was smiling as she gazed at the smaller woman.

It wasn’t long before Kan-E noticed.

“…Must you stare at me like that?” she asked, looking away with a slight blush covering her cheeks.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Merlwyb smirked, taking another sip of coffee in between, “…For now, you will have to bear with it…Of course, there is one other thing you could do.”

“And what would that be?”

“Finishing your soup.”

Kan-E ate another spoonful of soup and gave a sleepy little pout…something Merlwyb had never seen from her before. And, somehow…it just made Merlwyb want to look at her more. She took another gulp of coffee and assumed that thought was just due to her own exhaustion catching up to her.

…Eventually, she did finish the soup. That in itself was a relief to Merlwyb…she was still not quite sure how she managed to get the exhausted Elder Seedseer to do that, but at least she had eaten—her hands and body had mostly stopped trembling, and a tiny bit of new energy filled her. Although…she still wasn’t saying much. After she had finished her meal, she had grown even quieter, giving brief, one word answers to the Admiral’s questions and conversation.

Until the clock struck half-past midnight, and she spoke once more.

“Admiral,” she began slowly, hesitantly—her tired green eyes looked straight into Merlwyb’s, “…There is a certain place I would like for us to go…if you happen to have the time, of course…”

“Lead the way,” Merlwyb nodded, “…and I shall follow.”

Kan-E stood from her chair and nearly froze upon hearing the answer, turning away from the Roegadyn.

“…Are you…Are you certain?” she asked again.

“I would not lie to you,” the Admiral replied matter-of-factly. The tiny Padjal averted her eyes from Merlwyb’s gaze, just for a moment…but quickly met it again with another blank stare and a weak nod, holding her hand out for the Admiral to take.

“Then…please follow me,” she had said simply. Merlwyb raised an eyebrow at the Elder Seedseer’s gesture.

“Would I find myself lost if I do not take your hand, Elder Seedseer?” she smirked, trying to elicit a smile from her companion. However…it didn’t work as well as she’d have liked. In fact, she would go so far as to say it completely backfired when Kan-E looked down, rejected.

“…No,” she sighed, her voice quivering again as she put her hand back at her side, “You would not. I…I apologize, that was—”

Without thinking, Merlwyb grabbed Kan-E’s hand immediately. There was…something the Admiral feared in that look of rejection, something that shook her to the core. As if Kan-E, too, had— _no_. That was the last thing she wanted. Somehow, there was a selfish satisfaction in wondering, but…She never wanted the Elder Seedseer to be caught in that.

“I never said I would not take your hand,” the Roegadyn smiled gently. Then, for a split second, a tiny grin from Kan-E…not quite like the ones Merlwyb was used to, but…it would suffice. She nodded to Kan-E to lead the way, and so she did.

There was something strangely whimsical about taking a stroll through Gridania at midnight, when few are still awake and even fewer lights are around to guide you; many of them were still being finished up in the New Gridania area. There were fireflies dancing around in the night air—not enough to light the city-state, but enough to create some kind of strangely comforting atmosphere.

In all honesty, before the Calamity, Merlwyb disliked Gridania. She had thought it to be too deeply rooted in fear of the so-called “elementals” and the customs of old, ruled by what she thought was a capricious little horned girl who served as a vessel for these customs. Bringing herself down to the level of those Gridanians, to fight with those who lived in fear of something invisible…it irked her at first. But…there was someone who changed that. Someone she can’t remember…a tiny, dark silhouette in her memory, followed by others behind it. Perhaps she had that strange, tiny shadow of a Warrior of Light to thank for changing her mind.

But the entire city-state had transformed into something new, something…stronger. There was still fear, of course, but she had learned over time that the elementals were something very real indeed…

Gridania’s transformation might have even resembled Kan-E’s. There was little fear in the Elder Seedseer’s eyes anymore…on any other occasion that wasn’t tonight, that is. Her doubt had (mostly) disappeared, and rarely had she spoken as though everything was over anymore. She had seen the end with her own eyes and had lived to tell the tale, to know that everything was far from over. She had rebuilt herself along with the city…and, in a way, it had been a beautiful thing to watch. Merlwyb was honored to have been a part of it.

Seeing the nearly rebuilt city and its new life reminded her of Kan-E. She didn’t dislike it at all—not the city, nor Kan-E. Gods, she _far_ from disliked Kan-E.

Silently they had walked, with Kan-E continuing to escort her into Old Gridania. The lamps were more common here; a dim light led the way down a strange, cave-like tunnel as they walked further north. She hadn’t realized it at first…but the Padjal’s hand had begun to tremble again.

The little calm Merlwyb had gained disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. It replaced itself with a foreboding anxiety, much to her chagrin.

At the end of the tunnel lay a tiny spring with a waterfall, its natural rock walls lined with benches and lamps here and there. There was a quiet little charm to it, Merlwyb remembered; Kan-E had taken her here once before…quite some time ago.

They sat themselves down on a bench close to the falls—the Padjal’s hand was still tightly holding on to the Admiral’s as she finally spoke up.

“…Do you recall the first time I brought you here?” she asked, turning her gaze to Merlwyb with a strange, sad smile, “Whenever I am here…I cannot help but think back to that day.”

“The first day I visited,” nodded Merlwyb, “You were eager to show me this place…you had often written of it…Apkallu Falls, where Archon Louisoix once stood vigil.”

“You told me something that day, Admiral,” she paused, “You told me…that I needed to harden my heart. That I should do whatever it takes to bring a sense of peace back to the lives of these people…for I am the very spirit of Gridania, just as you are the one who guides your Limsa Lominsa.”

“That I did,” Merlwyb looked to the dark, starry sky above, “…And you have done well. Gridania is—”

“Admiral,” Kan-E interrupted, nearly shouting. Her free hand, resting on that pure white dress, had clenched up into a tiny, trembling fist. Merlwyb abruptly stopped and turned to the Padjal, whose voice grew weaker as she continued to speak.

“…I know I am not well,” she murmured, “I am no fool.”

The Admiral was stunned at that simple phrase. She had many things to say to that…questions to ask, even scolding, perhaps…but the only thing she could do was nod in agreement.

“There was nothing else I could have done but this,” she began, arms beginning to tremble, “And yet, even now, with all that I am…there is so much to be done…I wish to keep the promise I made to you…for I am…I am…”

…she stopped speaking altogether; Merlwyb put her hand on the Padjal’s tiny shoulder…and that was all it took for the walls to break, and the tears to rush down Kan-E’s face…something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I am, and will always be, Kan-E-Senna,” she wept, finally showing her tired, distraught face again to the Admiral, “I am the voice of the Gridanians and the Order of the Twin Adder…I am the voice of the Elementals…I am Gridania _itself_! Why is it that Gridania is rebuilt, yet I am still broken!? Why is it that no matter what it is I have done, I have never done enough…?”

“Kan-E—”

“Do _not_ address me by that, Admiral!” the Padjal vehemently shook her head, “I—to hear you say my name…”

“That _is_ your name, is it not?” Merlwyb sharply asked, finally ready to speak again.

“I…yes, but—”

“Then I will address you as such!” the Roegadyn’s blood began to boil, nearly yelling, “Why did you not mention this in your last correspondence? Why did you not tell me you were suffering?! For what reason did you _think_ I came to see you?”

The Elder Seedseer froze with an exhausted, hysterical fear in her eyes. Merlwyb hadn’t meant to speak in such a tone; nevertheless…she was fed up with Kan-E’s denial and cryptic answers. She wanted—no, _needed_ —to know everything.

Perhaps that needy message conveyed itself in the forlorn smile she gave her companion, for in that moment, the Padjal could take it no longer, wrapping her arms around the Admiral and sobbing into her chest.

“…I did not wish for you to see me like this,” she sighed, “I did not wish for anyone to see me like this…but you…of all people, I did not want to disappoint you.”

Merlwyb wrapped her arms around the Elder Seedseer in return, gently resting her head on Kan-E’s.

“You have done no such thing,” Merlwyb whispered into the Padjal’s hair, “I have not ever been disappointed in you. No…if anything, you have amazed me in these three years.”

“I was not resolute, as you told me to be…” Kan-E quietly argued, “I wished to not be weak…I wished to be like you…and so I worked to no end, attempting to right as many wrongs as I could, choosing to forgo any opportunity to rest…”

“Continuing that way would be impossible,” Merlwyb furrowed her brow, “…suicide, even.”

“There is still so much I must do,” Kan-E slowly raised herself from Merlwyb, rubbing away a tear or two, “…I must continue like this. There is no other way.”

“In doing so, you will lose yourself,” Merlwyb shook her head, moving her hands to the Elder Seedseer’s shoulders and holding them tightly, “You must not strive to be someone like me. You are invaluable to the Gridanians…it is as you said: you are, and will always be, Kan-E-Senna. There is still a long road ahead—it will remain there, no matter how long or how quickly we choose to continue down that path.”

Kan-E stared at her in awe, weakly nodding in agreement.

“Know this, Kan-E,” Merlwyb told her sincerely, letting go of her shoulders, “You are not alone. You never have been. You never will be. Gridania needs you—I have seen you guide it with confidence, and I see the loyalty in your soldiers’ eyes…they are with you. Your people are with you. They will help you steer the course.”

“…And,” Kan-E added with a melancholic smile, “You have been with me, as well. You always were…”

“Yes,” the Admiral found herself smirking at that reply, “I suppose I was. And…I would like to keep it that way.”

There was a sense of selfishness that was laced into that last statement…the Roegadyn internally cursed at herself for doing so. It wasn’t how she’d meant to say it, but…

“I…would like that…” Kan-E sleepily nodded, her head slowly falling onto Merlwyb’s shoulder, “I would…like that very much…”

“But for now,” Merlwyb answered quietly, “You must rest. You were not broken…you simply needed to speak of your fears and face them. You are much stronger than you believe, Kan-E. Since the day you began to rebuild, I never doubted that…not for a moment.”

"Admiral…thank you,” the Elder Seedseer whispered as one last tear fell, “Would it be strange…if I were to tell you that you are…my most…precious…"

But she didn’t finish. Finally, Kan-E had fallen asleep.

"…No," Merlwyb murmured, carefully wrapping an arm around the tiny Padjal, “It would not be strange at all."

And so the Admiral stayed, with the Elder Seedseer resting against her shoulder. She looked up once again at the clear, star-covered sky…it was beautiful here. And she still wondered so many things.

Her heart was pounding. The whole time, it was. She just hadn’t realized it until everything had stopped. And there was a pain there…a strange, aching pain that she couldn’t deny. She was happy, having Kan-E there by her side; she was happy to have eased the other woman’s suffering. But…no matter what she did, there was something there that she could never have. She hadn’t known if Kan-E felt the same. She wouldn’t dare ask. Maybe Kan-E’s look of rejection from earlier that night, or the tinge of red on her cheeks, or her head on Merlwyb’s shoulder all meant nothing.

Maybe it meant nothing.

…But she was too afraid to move.

She remained there for gods know how long…she didn’t care to find out. But it was so tranquil, listening to the sound of the waterfall with Kan-E peacefully asleep. She would have wanted to stay there until the sun rose, watching the rise and fall of the Padjal’s breaths, her hair falling forward onto Merlwyb’s shoulder.

In time, though, she realized that the Serpent soldiers would want to know of their leader’s whereabouts. Slowly, gently, she began to move so as not to wake Kan-E, trying to hold her in the same position until she could take the Elder Seedseer into her arms and carry her, as though she was most fragile. In that position…she seemed it, for an instant. But inside that tiny body rested one of the most steadfast hearts she had ever known.

Cautiously, Merlwyb strolled back out into the city-state, wondering where she should be going…She had recalled passing by Stillglade Fane on the way to the Falls, which, if she was correct, was close to the Lotus Stand, where Kan-E would often take her, and where Alliance meetings were held. The Admiral had to jog her memory a bit to figure out what path to take…in the end, she must have taken the right one, as a Serpent soldier dressed in that oddly bright uniform caught her eye in an open part of the city—the almost headache-inducing yellow had helped her identify the soldiers yet again…she’d supposed it was a decent color, as long as you weren’t trying to blend in with your environment with that coat on…

He seemed to notice her first, looking rather shocked as he observed the person in the Admiral’s arms and ran up to her.

“…The Elder Seedseer!” he whispered in surprise, knowing that she had simply fallen asleep, “My superiors were right in contacting you, Admiral…we never doubted it for a second.”

“…And you would be?” Merlwyb raised an eyebrow at the stranger.

“Ah! I apologize, Admiral,” he saluted, “It is a wonder that we meet here—I am Lieutenant Fulke, the soldier that wrote you. My shift at the Adders’ Nest has ended for the night…I was heading home.”

“I apologize for requesting a favor of you while you are off-duty,” the Roegadyn looked around at the many winding roads, “However—”

“Ah, of course!” Fulke enthusiastically nodded, knowing exactly what she was about to ask, “You are wondering where the Elder Seedseer rests. I would be glad to guide you.”

Merlwyb nodded as if to thank him, and silently thanked the gods that she wouldn’t have to wander around Gridania at midnight by herself. She did enjoy the newly-built Gridania, of course…but asking her to navigate it was a bit of a different story. Fulke led the way with pleasantries here and there, quietly pointing out landmarks so perhaps she could “remember it next time”.

There were other little guilds and buildings throughout that she found familiar, trying to make a mental note of them all…it was difficult when you were carrying someone in your arms. Not that Kan-E was heavy; she was light as a feather for the Admiral to carry. But…she looked down at the Elder Seedseer every so often, still looking as peaceful as she was when she had first fallen asleep. Merlwyb wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t woken up—barely sleeping for a fortnight would do that to anyone.

After a series of smaller paths, seeing the Altar of Nophica was somewhat of a blessing, and having Lieutenant Fulke there had probably been some kind of Twelve-sent gift. As they neared the path to the Lotus Stand, Fulke spoke up once again.

“The Elder Seedseer’s home is just past the Lotus Stand,” he explained, “Follow the northwest path from there, and in time, you will reach it.”

Merlwyb turned to the lieutenant and nodded once more. There was a tightness in her chest as she spoke again.

“…Might I stay with her?” she asked solemnly, “I would like to ensure that she rests properly.” It was selfish of her to ask. She knew that. She knew she had to return to Limsa as soon as possible. But…she wanted to stay. Just for the night…for Kan-E’s sake.

“It would be an honor, Admiral,” Fulke saluted, “You have Gridania’s deepest thanks.”

“You have my thanks, as well,” she replied, pausing in between, “If something like this happens again…”

“We will inform you immediately.”

Satisfied with the answer, Merlwyb looked back to Fulke again, as if to tell him that she would be all right from this point on—he gave one last salute to her and let her travel down the path to the Lotus Stand alone, with the Elder Seedseer in tow. The path was familiar—something she was glad for, and as she passed the Stand itself, on top of the flowing water, she finally felt fully at ease, knowing that Kan-E was going to be all right…for now, at least.

The northwest path—the path to Kan-E’s home—was a place she had never been to before. She was somewhat aware of its existence before that night, but never had she seen the place. It was a winding trail, just like any other road in Gridania. But at its end lay a quaint little Gridanian cottage, surrounded by foliage and little gardens here and there. It was almost sickeningly fitting for Kan-E.

Merlwyb opened the door to the cottage quietly and with great care, trying not to move the Elder Seedseer too much. Somehow, as Merlwyb made her way inside and fumbled around in the darkness to Kan-E’s room, the Padjal had not woken. She was almost certain that there were few things that would wake her in that sleep-deprived state.

Gently, she placed the smaller woman on the large, oaken bed, putting her head to the pillow. As quietly as she could, Merlwyb attempted to undo Kan-E’s necklaces…she didn’t think it very comfortable to be sleeping with them on. With the clasps undone, she placed the jewelry on a bureau nearby and realized she had forgotten about the porcelain leaves in her hair. It was rather risky to try and take them off, but…she wanted Kan-E to rest well, and…those leaves were rather pointy. Hesitantly, she ended up unclipping those, as well. It took a little bit of time to realize how they worked, and she was rather embarrassed to be doing this all while Kan-E was asleep.

When the leaves finally came off, the Admiral placed them on the bureau as well, next to the necklaces; she hadn’t realized until she returned to sit on the other side of the bed, but…Kan-E’s hair had come undone as a result.

She hadn’t realized how long it was. Kan-E had kept it up—there was no way of knowing. There was something beautiful about her with her hair down…perhaps it looked more natural, or just free, spread out behind her. Gently, Merlwyb patted the head of the Padjal sleeping innocently beside her.

What she also hadn’t realized was how exhausted she had been. To lie down on the pillow next to Kan-E’s and sleep right there, beside her…it seemed so inviting. For a long time…Merlwyb had wanted to be by her side like this. There was a part of her that told her not to, to return home to Limsa. But it was much too late for that…and so she slowly slipped off her boots, putting them to her side of the bed and resting her head against the pillow beside Kan-E.

It should have been peaceful. But something was pulling at her…something made her heart race, lying there with Kan-E’s sleeping face so close. Her reason was clouded with exhaustion, and her self-centered desires proceeded to act in its stead. She inched her body closer, wrapping her arms around the Padjal in a gentle embrace. She had stirred ever-so-slightly, causing Merlwyb’s heart to jump for a split second…but she was still asleep, thank the Twelve.

In that moment of desire, with Kan-E closer than she had ever been…Merlwyb lightly pressed a kiss to her forehead.

And the second she did, a tear formed on the Padjal’s cheek. And another…Merlwyb stared in awe, unsure if she had woken Kan-E…or if she had begun to cry in her sleep. There was a tiny sob…and then a nearly inaudible voice.

“…Merlwyb…” Kan-E had murmured…was she talking in her sleep, as well? She was shocked to hear the Elder Seedseer call her by name…she had always been formal and refused to call her by name, insisting on “Admiral” this whole time. But she had heard it correctly—she knew she had. That was her name upon the Padjal’s lips…and another silent sob with it.

“Please…” she began again, “…Stay with me. Please, Merlwyb…please…”

She kept repeating the same thing over and over…and Merlwyb realized what this meant. It pained her to think of it—this was the last thing she wanted to happen. Yet, at the same time, some cynical part of her was pleased. She had never meant for it to come to this…and she realized it was too risky for her to continue visiting like this.

She tightened her embrace on the Padjal, whose tears flowed down as she slept.

“I beg of you, Kan-E…” she murmured, holding her close, “…you mustn’t do this to me.”

…But she said no more, in fear of waking Kan-E up or causing her to babble in her sleep again. In time, her tears ceased—perhaps her dream had ended. Merlwyb, too, was gradually able to fall asleep, though haunted by the Elder Seedseer’s words.

—————-

Merlwyb leaves early the next morning, before Kan-E can notice that she was ever there next to her.

On her way home, she wonders briefly if the Padjal will be all right without her for a time.

—————-

Kan-E sends a letter a week later, apologizing for her behavior. She claims to have barely remembered it, but hastily blames it all on her lack of rest.

Maybe, Merlwyb thinks, it really _did_ mean nothing. Even then, she takes no risks, beginning to distance herself from the one she loves more than anything.


	2. Act II

The tiny little clock by her bed had just struck midnight. Kan-E could not sleep.

These sleepless nights hadn’t happened in a long time; this had been the fifth night in a row…Her heart was pounding against her chest the entire time, and her hands were shaking…just a little. She _had_ eaten—she knew it had nothing to do with that. So…why?

Falling asleep had never been filled with such anxiety before. Kan-E was making an effort to rest. It was different than the last time, where she refused to sleep or eat at all in favor of her work…nowadays, she always made sure she had gotten enough sleep. She always had, ever since that night the Admiral told her that it was all right…that she could rest.

…It had been six moons since that night. Six moons since the Admiral’s last visit. Six moons since the Admiral’s last letter. The letters had grown shorter after her last visit to Gridania, until, finally, one final note arrived from Limsa Lominsa, with only this message on the parchment in Admiral Merlwyb’s handwriting:

_“Please forgive me.”_

Kan-E hadn’t quite understood it. She had guessed, perhaps, that it was an apology, and that the Admiral knew she would not be able to write anymore. But even that hadn’t seemed right. The Admiral had promised her, more than 3 years ago, that she would watch over Kan-E. She always had, until after that night. Ever since then, she wondered if she had done something wrong to her friend in that state of exhaustion.

Honestly, she didn’t remember much of that night. There were some key words and phrases that she remembered saying and hearing; still, the entire thing had felt like a dream, when she finally woke up a day later.  She remembered the general outline of what happened…her needy complaints to the Admiral, the strange desire to stay as close to her as she possibly could, and…at the end of it all, a very short, very vivid dream.

The Padjal was certain it had been a dream, for she had remembered it clearly, as compared to the rest of the events of that night. It had been so _real_ …so very bright:

_She was in a beautiful, open field…with rolling, windy meadows and clear, azure skies. The sea lay in front of her, a deeper blue than the sky, but still just as beautiful as it stretched to the horizon. And…Merlwyb had been there, holding her close. She could feel the warmth of the Admiral’s arms, gently wrapped around her. She had felt so safe there…she wished she could have stayed in that part of the dream, listening to the sounds of the wind and water against the white stone cliffs._

_She remembered looking up to see the Admiral smiling at her affectionately, and a warmth filled Kan-E’s entire body. She realized it there…being by the Admiral’s side was what she had wanted this whole time. Her resilient heart, her calm, beautiful demeanor, her reassuring words…Kan-E could have wanted for nothing more. It was a terrible, impure thing to think about, but in that moment, she was truly happy. And, when the Admiral closed the distance between them to kiss Kan-E’s forehead…it felt like she had really been kissed. She remembered the sensation exactly._

_Perhaps that’s why she began to cry. She hadn’t known if she was overjoyed that the dream had felt so real, or heartbroken that it was an impossible dream. But she cried nevertheless, trying to embrace the Admiral…or what was left of her as her body began to fade and clouds covered the sky._

_“Merlwyb, please…!” she sobbed into the fading figure, leaving her inhibitions behind and calling her name, “…Stay with me. Please, Merlwyb…please…”_

_She looked up to see a frown on the Admiral’s face before she faded completely, and Kan-E was left alone, trying to touch something that wasn’t there anymore in that meadow, gusty and covered in dark clouds._

_She remembers collapsing on the ground and crying as heavy rain began to fall._

…and then, just like that, the dream had ended.

Kan-E realized not long after that the dream may have been prophetic, foretelling the Admiral’s “fading away” of sorts. Not a day went by where she didn’t think of that dream and wonder if the desires she felt there were what she truly thought…there was always a little part of her, a voice that would tell her that it was all right to feel that way. But each time she heard it, she pushed it aside. Even if she _did_ take heed of that voice, being with Merlwyb…well, it felt—no, it _was_ impossible. But ever since that last night they were together, whenever Kan-E tried to fall asleep, she always felt as though something was missing…perhaps it was just a tad colder without the embrace of that Admiral in her dream.

The Padjal tossed and turned in her bed, her thoughts fixated on the Roegadyn. Whenever she had trouble sleeping, she would always remember the blurred voice of the Admiral, telling her to rest. Though…it almost pained her to think of it this time; she realized it had been so long that she could barely imagine the Admiral’s once-familiar voice anymore…instead of it comforting her, it haunted her to try to remember simply how the Admiral sounded.

There was so much Kan-E wanted to tell her. She had done so many good things for Gridania over these past moons…more of the city had been recreated, and even the Elementals had praised her and the Seedseer Council. She was overjoyed to see the smiles of so many Gridanians. After all this time, it was still a wonderful thing to see.  

…Well, there _was_ a way to tell the Admiral of all the things she had accomplished. But the mere thought of if made Kan-E even more anxious than before. She’d attempted to write before, wanting to ask about the cryptic last letter or how the Admiral was faring with Limsa Lominsa. But none of the letters seemed to come out right. She didn’t know how many she had tried to write. She lost count a long time ago.

But perhaps a little writing would help her sleep. She didn’t mind adding to that countless number of failed letters…and who knew? Maybe she would find a moment of clarity, where she could finally write the perfect letter.

Such were the thoughts that made her rise from her bed, rubbing her eyes slightly and trudging to the other side of the room, where her desk lay. She hadn’t had a chance to sit in it very much anymore—she had usually spent her time at this desk writing letters to the Admiral. But, lighting the fireplace next to it and sitting at her desk again brought a very nostalgic feeling…and a rush of confidence ran through her.

She brought a good few sheets of parchment from a lower drawer along with some ink and a quill. Before she closed it, she reached towards the back of the drawer for a lone piece of paper that stood out among the rest. The ink had faded a bit, but it was still the same as it ever was when she received it. Carefully, she put it on the far end of the desk away from the ink and read its contents again:

_“Please forgive me.”_

The Admiral’s last note. She had wished she still had all of her other letters, but…she had asked her Serpent soldiers to rid of them, in a moment of unintelligible frustration after she had come to the conclusion that the Admiral was not to return to Gridania any time soon.

It was the last thing Kan-E had from her. And she had hoped it would inspire her to write something poignant, too…something that would open the Admiral’s eyes and make her recall every happy memory they had shared.

She took a deep breath, dipped her quill into the ink, and began to write.

_“Admiral,_

_How are you faring?”_

…Well, she’d gotten that part down. There was a large amount of time before she decided on the next thing to write.

_“It has been quite some time since your last letter…I hope you are well. I have also been well.”_

…No, why would she tell the Admiral she was well if she couldn’t immediately get the Admiral’s response? What if she had a terrible day? It all seemed so insincere.

Kan-E shook her head at the barely-written on piece of parchment with a look of disgust and crumpled it up, throwing it into the fireplace beside her. The flames grew to life when the parchment reached it, and the light had become just a bit brighter.

She took another sheet of parchment and tried again. Perhaps Kan-E should just be frank with her. The Admiral always did like brevity.

_“Admiral,_

_It has been six moons since your last correspondence. You have still not informed me of the meaning of your last letter.”_

…Kan-E forgot that brevity wasn’t really her forte. Or rather, she didn’t like the idea of simply telling someone something without proper reasoning for it. She shook her head again with a quiet “absolutely not”, and threw that parchment in with the first.

This wasn’t going as she planned. Perhaps she wasn’t thinking it through enough. She tried again to no avail.

Perhaps she needed to be more eloquent? No, Merlwyb never liked her to be _too_ eloquent…and another piece of parchment went in the trash.

Perhaps she had to write more like those in Limsa in order to catch the Admiral’s attention…oh, gods, _no._ That was probably the fastest one she threw out.

She must have spent a bell or two attempting to write letters, all of which shared the same fate in the growing fire. She had used all but one sheet of her parchment…would it even be worth one more try? Her fingers were stained with ink, and her knuckles numb from trying to write… 

Kan-E turned her gaze to the Admiral’s note once again.

She needed to know everything. She needed to tell the Admiral everything. She needed to be honest. She shouldn’t hide anything from her…they were…friends, weren’t they? Or…if they weren’t…what _were_ they?

That last question motivated her to take the final piece of parchment. With another deep breath, she began, attempting to let her heart write the letter for her.

_“Admiral,_

_You are most likely wondering why I have decided to send you this letter after all this time. I will be honest…I was fearful of your response. For these six moons, I have wondered what your last letter meant…those three simple words have haunted me since the day I received them.”_

…Kan-E was doing well this time around; she even surprised herself. As she wrote, there was a sort of hollow sadness building up in her, but she continued regardless:

_“After all this time, I know not what they mean. You need not be forgiven. There was never anything for you to atone for…not to me. You were always kind to me.”_

The last sentence brought back memories…the letters, the visits, the anticipation of waiting for the Admiral as she landed in the city-state…and the satisfied look on the Admiral’s face whenever she saw Kan-E.

Her body grew warm and her eyes began to water. She noticed it quickly, though, rubbing away unneeded tears. She went on:

_“If you are speaking of forgiving you for your lack of communication these few moons…why? Why have you evaded explaining to me your reasoning behind it? Ever since that last night, your correspondences became shorter until that final note. To this day, I know not why. I had apologized before for my actions that night, however…perhaps there was something I do not remember? Is there something I may have done to displease you? Please, Admiral, you must tell me._

_There is one thing I remember clearly about that night. As I was falling asleep, I recall your comforting presence as I told you how blessed I was to have you there…and I recall what you had told me in response. You informed me that you wished to keep it as such. Unfortunately…that did not happen. I wish to be completely honest with you, Admiral. You told me to harden my heart, and so I have. No more will I hesitate to ask you why you did not keep your word._

_If I am the cause…then you have my sincerest apologies. I know not what it is I have done. I do, however, know that I wish to see you again. I wish to tell you of all the things that have happened in Gridania since your final departure, to listen once again to your tales of Limsa Lominsa, to stand by your side…Perhaps it is selfish. Perhaps it is foolish. But perhaps it is everything I could ever want…perhaps my behaviors that night were my true feelings.”_

…The tears began again. And this time, there were too many to wipe away. She put her quill back in the ink, covering her eyes from what she had written and leaving tiny ink marks on her face when she had finally uncovered them. Was her heart truly writing this? Was this how she really felt? Is this what that tiny voice was trying to tell her this whole time? It disgusted her to wonder…but she carried on, wanting to know more of what her heart would write for her.

She decided to let that voice in her head win. She decided to unbind herself from reason and write every emotion she had felt towards the Admiral.

_"…I was a fool to have not realized it sooner, Admiral…the reason I wept so much when you departed and did not return."_

A tear or two fell on the parchment, bleeding the words together.

_"I am in love with you. I believe I always have been…since that day you saved me from my own darkness. You were the first person to truly understand my emotions, as well as my burden. And, that night…I dreamt of us. In that dream, you embraced me tightly…I had never been so happy. Though, just as we faded from each other here, so, too, did you fade from me in that dream. I begged you not to leave…but the Spinner would have it otherwise. Still, that does not change my feelings…I love you more than words could ever express. It is strange…I know it is strange. But I will not run away…not from my people, and not from you._

_…Please, Merlwyb. Stay with me…I beg of you.”_

She stared at the letter in awe, quietly sobbing at what she had written and leaving no signature. That all was…how she truly felt. It must have been. She wouldn’t have written it if it weren’t. This whole time, she had been in love with the Admiral…with Merlwyb. It was a beautiful, wonderful, terrifying thing…and it sent a sharp pain through Kan-E’s chest to know that she couldn’t ever show this to her…no matter what, she couldn’t.

It was terrible. This entire emotion was terrible. She had been told never to resent anything or anyone in her life…but, just for a moment, she resented that feeling. She resented herself for falling in love with the Admiral…if that’s what it was at all. She resented her emotions for not knowing if this was what love really was.

Kan-E folded the letter up. She put it in an envelope. She put the Twin Adder seal on it. She even addressed it to Merlwyb. And she stood from the desk.

…Just as with the others, the Padjal threw it all into the flames. She shook her head, trying to tell herself that what she had written wasn’t true, that it was emotion speaking for her instead of reason. She let that happen. She shouldn’t ever have let that happen.

She never wanted it to happen again. Now, for as long as she could…she had to close her heart to the Admiral.

“…Please forgive me,” she quietly wept, watching the letter burn and the flames rise.


	3. Act III - Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this chapter takes place right after the events of "A Moment in Time", so, uh, it's a little nsfw.

Never had Kan-E’s heart pounded against her chest so violently as it did when she walked into the Admiral’s—no, _Merlwyb’s_ —chambers on that strange, wonderful night. Merlwyb had been kind enough to hold the door open for her.

…How had it come to this?

They had been celebrating the Sultana’s nameday. That much she knows. But everything stopped when Merlwyb entered through those doors and escorted the Padjal to the ballroom floor, teaching her to waltz as if they had seen each other the day before…when, in reality, it had been an entire year.

She had closed everything off to Merlwyb. She never wanted to be this close to her anymore…she couldn’t. That is…until the Admiral kissed her hand as they finished their first dance together, after the entire ballroom applauded them. That was when Kan-E could take it no longer. That was when they left into the halls of the palace to speak. And that was when they confessed their love…when their lips met and the impossible became possible. Selfish desires were not so selfish anymore…they were simply mutual. Kan-E had never been so happy…and so nervous, when the Admiral asked her for “repayment”…of course she knew what it meant. But…that entire… _process_ …was completely foreign to her.

And so she found herself in the Admiral’s temporary lodgings for the night—a rather simple chamber with a large window, displaying the glowing view of Ul’dah at night. There was a bed, twice the size of Kan-E’s, on the left side, with a little oaken table next to it, and a small closet on the opposite wall. She took a few deep breaths, trying to ready herself for whatever was to happen next.

…She heard the door close with a click behind it. Any bit of internal calm she had before had left her at this point. Which is probably why she nearly jumped as she heard familiar footsteps behind her.

There was no need to turn around and wonder. In moments, Merlwyb was there, embracing her from behind, bending down a bit and leaning in towards the Padjal’s tiny ear.

“…Merlwyb,” Kan-E murmured…it was still strange to call the Admiral by that name…conversely, it felt so _exhilarating_. Of course, it was even stranger to think that the two had become lovers during the course of the evening. Slowly, she placed her hands on the Admiral’s arms that had ever so sneakily wrapped themselves around her waist.

“Kan-E,” she whispered back; the warm breath tickled the Padjal’s ear slightly, “Tell me…is this what you truly want?”   

Kan-E’s heart fluttered at the question, but she had immediately answered:

“Yes,” she began, confidently, caring little of the warmth that rushed to her face, “For a long time…I have wanted nothing more than—ah!”

…She would have gone on. But the Admiral’s hands had somehow made their way to the back of the Padjal’s dress without her knowing, and her lips against Kan-E’s neck. There was a cold sensation slowly spreading down her back…she’d instantly realized what Merlwyb was doing. Her necklaces and dress were quickly being undone.

In mere moments, that cold sensation ran down her entire back—that is, until Merlwyb decided to place a kiss on each part of it as it was slowly exposed. Kan-E’s entire body shivered. She could feel the goosebumps on her arms…but it wasn’t from the cold. It was a strange, new feeling…a heat of sorts that quickly spread throughout her body.

“May I?” asked Merlwyb as she finished undoing the ties that bound the back of Kan-E’s dress, ready to remove it entirely.

“…Y-yes,” she nodded nervously, “You may.”

…and so the Admiral began, finally stopping those kisses down her shoulders and back and shedding the dress away from her lover. Kan-E had closed her eyes and covered her chest the entire time, terrified and anxious to see the Roegadyn’s reaction to her tiny, bare body. She could feel the blood rush through her cheeks and her entire face had probably gone red…a familiar hand reached between the legs of the Padjal’s trousers, gently pulling them (and everything under it) down as her eyes shut tighter; she couldn’t help but utter a tiny cry at the abruptness of it, and perhaps at the way it felt when Merlwyb touched her there…she may have wanted this more than she thought.

In a moment of determination, the Elder Seedseer’s eyes shot open, only to see Merlwyb placing Kan-E’s discarded clothes and necklaces into the tiny closet…and then Merlwyb had looked—she had seen everything. She had…really seen every bit of her. But she hadn’t scoffed or expressed disappointment at all. In fact…she was smiling this brilliant, beautiful smile as she marched right back to the Padjal and kissed her gently on the mouth.

When they parted, and Kan-E opened her eyes again…she even thought she saw a tinge of red on the Admiral’s cheeks, too.

“…Ah,” Merlwyb blinked as though she’d remembered something, “One more thing.”

Kan-E was somewhat confused for a moment, but when the Admiral’s hands were running through her hair to try and get those porcelain leaves off, she couldn’t help but laugh a little when the Roegadyn continued to struggle with them.

“And what, exactly, would be so funny?” Merlwyb asked, furrowing her brow and continuing to play around with those leaves…she was determined to remove them, for some reason.

“…Might you need some assistance, Merlwyb?” Kan-E chuckled, taking Merlwyb’s hands and guiding them with her own to aid her in taking off what Merlwyb would later call “little nuisances”. In time, though, they did come off with the Padjal’s help, and the Admiral (rather frustrated) threw them in the closet, too. Kan-E’s hair fell down shortly after, as a result of not having them…

When she returned to face Kan-E, the Admiral smiled lovingly, gently outlining the curves of the Padjal’s body with her hands and sending another rush of… _something_ through her. It was that very same rush of heat from earlier. She had supposed that was what people referred to as “pleasure”.  

“Perfect,” she had said, pressing another kiss to Kan-E’s lips…and to her neck…and—

“Arms _down_ ,” Merlwyb teasingly scolded, “You need not hide anything from me.”

Adrenaline ran through Kan-E’s body the moment Merlwyb had given the order. That was…well, she was always a little insecure when it came to _that_. She tried to tell herself it was all right, that it was really, truly Merlwyb…it took her some time and a little more coaxing for her to finally speak up again.

“I, ah…this is my…first time,” the Padjal spoke awkwardly, embarrassed. The Admiral, however, was not surprised. She whispered back with another kiss:

“And you are sure of this decision?” she asked with a familiar grin.

“Yes,” she nodded, her voice growing with confidence as she embraced the Admiral, “I…For some time, I have wanted for it to be with you, Merlwyb.”

“Then you needn’t worry,” Merlwyb held her tighter for a moment, slowly letting go and keeping Kan-E’s hands in hers as they separated, “Did I not tell you earlier? As long as one is willing to learn…”

“…You will teach,” the Padjal finished for her, smiling. It took her a second to realize that the Admiral had most likely planned this out…her hands were occupied in Merlwyb’s, and her chest was uncovered. She looked down at herself, seeming almost ashamed.

“I apologize,” she mumbled, “…if I do not meet your expectations…”

Merlwyb shook her head, seemingly satisfied.

“Not at all,” she noted matter-of-factly, raising Kan-E’s face to hers, “You have surpassed them.”

Kan-E returned the gaze with wide-eyed wonder.

“…Truly?”

“Of course,” Merlwyb reassured her, playing with the Elder Seedseer’s flowing hair, “I have longed to see you like this…Every smile, every tear—Gods, every _ilm_ of you—you are all I could want, Kan-E. I have been steadfast in that belief.”

An innocent, sincere smile grew on Kan-E’s lips. For a fleeting second, she might have wanted to cry…she, too, had longed to be with the Admiral like this. And it sent a bloom of joy through her, knowing that the Admiral had felt the same this entire time…she had only wished she’d admitted these feelings to her sooner.

She nearly let out another cry as she felt the warmth of the Admiral’s hand on hers once again, slowly backing Kan-E to the bed until her legs were pressed to the edge of it. Her heart raced as she watched the Roegadyn remove everything but her coat…and guided one of the Elder Seedseer’s tiny hands to its top buttons.

“If you would,” she nodded, giving a gentle smile as she let go of Kan-E’s hand.

Kan-E froze for a moment—she could tell her face was heating up for the umpteenth time tonight, but… _this was it._ She had wanted to do this…for a very long time, she did…though she hoped she would do it correctly…if there _was_ a correct way to do these things. Her perfectionism got the best of her as she attempted to undo the Admiral’s coat, hands trembling.     

Merlwyb noticed this quickly, taking her hands again and guiding them to undo the buttons, just as Kan-E had guided hers to remove her porcelain leaves. With each button that came undone, a nervous, selfish excitement grew within the Padjal, watching as more of the Admiral’s snow-white skin showed itself; first the shoulders, then the collarbones, then lower, to the chest and the stomach—

Without thinking, she averted her gaze upon finishing the last button, unsure of what to do or say next. The Admiral didn’t seem to be fazed by it much, unbuttoning the sleeves by herself and finally throwing the coat aside, leaving Merlwyb completely disrobed.

It took a moment for Kan-E’s desires to get the best of her and to look straight back up into the Admiral’s eyes…and then downwards. Her eyes widened in surprise.

The Admiral was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. Her body curved in all the right places—Kan-E desparately wished she could have voiced how she felt for Merlwyb in that moment, but her mouth refused to move.

There was something else, as well. Something she’d forgotten to expect. Scars of all sizes ran down her stomach and hips; there had even been one on one of her breasts.

“Did you think my body would be pure as Coerthas snow?” Merlwyb teased softly, realizing where Kan-E’s surprise had come from, “Unlike you, I am not bound by pacifism.”

The Padjal simply shook her head, gingerly tracing each scar with her fingers…sadness welled up within her as she wondered what could have happened, how each scar probably had a story…how she could have healed them if she had been at those battles.

But it was useless to think of what could have been. Instead, Kan-E took a seat on the bed behind her, somehow surprising Merlwyb when she began to kiss each of those scars on the Roegadyn’s stomach.   

“Kan-E…?” Merlwyb asked—she thought she heard the Admiral’s voice tremble as she found another scar on her lower stomach to kiss. Despite the battles and the scars that came with it…Merlwyb’s skin was very soft to the touch.

“The scars that remain are a part of you…You are beautiful…and so, too, are they,” the Elder Seedseer looked up at her lover, smiling and entwining her fingers with Merlwyb’s, “But there will be no more. I will not let that happen…I do not wish to see you suffer at the hands of another…That is why I offer all that I am to you.”  

Kan-E pulled at the Admiral’s hands, moving herself up the bed just a little and signaling for her to do the same. She still wasn’t sure what would happen next…but despite the constant pounding of her heart, it was…all right, she supposed. She would embrace the voice that tried to pull at her time and time again. She heard it loud and clear.

This time, Kan-E heard something new.

_“I love Merlwyb,”_ it echoed, _“More than anything, more than life…I want her to touch me…to embrace me until my body becomes numb with pleasure.”_

It was her very own voice—there was a rush of instinctual guilt for simply _listening_ to it. Never did she think she would even have such a lustful longing, but…for now, and for all the times she held it back, she would accept it, just as Merlwyb had accepted her. These were her wants and desires. She couldn’t toss them aside anymore. When she was with Merlwyb, alone like this…it was fine to feel that way every so often.

She understood Kan-E’s signal exactly, slowly letting go of the Padjal’s hands and leaning into her with a look of sincere concern.

“You realize,” a smile formed on the Admiral’s lips, “that we cannot go back to the way things were…if we continue on.”

Kan-E nodded slightly, falling into the bed as Merlwyb leaned further and began to close the gap. She wrapped her arms around the Admiral’s neck as she closed in, pulling her down for a kiss.

There was something different about that kiss, she noticed. Merlwyb was not holding back anymore. They were not like the simple little kisses from earlier that night…no, they were filled with a once-restrained desire, finally beginning to show itself…the thought of that simply made her want to do this with the Admiral even more. And somewhere, from the pit of Kan-E’s stomach, came a more intense heat as she returned the Admiral’s kisses with that same, freed longing.    

“I was prepared to accept that outcome,” the Padjal began between kisses, “…The moment I fell in love with you.”

Merlwyb seemed to be more than pleased with that response, and didn’t hesitate to begin sliding her hand down the middle of the Padjal’s tiny frame, causing her breath and body to quiver.

"My gorgeous little darling…” Merlwyb began softly, her voice full of affection, “You’ll not forget tonight."

“I would not dream of forgetting,” Kan-E replied, trying not to let her voice tremble as the Admiral’s hand continued down to the very same place she had touched earlier.

There was no turning back. There was no time for regret.

And as they began anew, the clock struck midnight.


End file.
